


Imagine a World Like That

by Deeambles



Series: Man is such a fool (why are we saving him?) [4]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Fourth Shinobi War, GedoMazou!Hashirama, Gen, Not Canon Compliant, That stupid god tree or whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-07-27 13:34:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20046871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deeambles/pseuds/Deeambles
Summary: “So, you would say we need something to calm them down?” Madara continues, picking at his nails almost disinterestedly.Obito can’t help but snort, drawing his two companions attention to him.“Something funny about the bijuu breaking out and ruining all our hard work, brat?” Madara says, voice deep and menacing and condescending all in one.“I’m not the one who wants a fucking sedative for a bijuu.”





	1. Your cover up is caving in

**Author's Note:**

> :D

“Zetsu?” 

“Hmm?”

“The Gedo Mazou can always be improved upon, yes?” Madara asks lightly. 

Obito watches as Madara eyes the Niidaime hokage down below. Senju Tobirama himself seems to be in a state of shock and Obito can’t help but glance down at his feet where the statue sprawls beneath him. 

He knew, that Senju Hashirama had something to do with stabilizing the Gedo Mazou. He’s seen the clone in the lotus flower. He’s watched as Madara showed him memories of Hashirama utilizing Mokuton so he could get a better grasp of it. 

Despite it— despite occasionally feeling the life force in his arm respond to the statue— getting a reminder that Madara and Zetsu sealed a guy into a mostly dead husk and the dudes brother, who, oh yeah, is an unparalleled sensor, is having a melt down below is somehow still nauseating.

Obito kills people quick. Tries to, at the very least. The thought of somebody’s soul being sealed instead of moving on to the pure lands is.... disturbing to Obito. 

Despite everything he’s done in his life, when he dies, he wants to be dead. 

He finds Madara’s will and strength admirable in that way. Allowing himself to be continuously revived and stay true to his goal. If Obito were to die now, well, he’d probably say fuck the ultimate tsukonomi plan. 

“Of course it can” Zetsu replies, “The bijuu will wear down the statue eventually if we are not quick to capture the two remaining.” 

“So, you would say we need something to calm them down?” Madara continues, picking at his nails almost disinterestedly. 

Obito can’t help but snort, drawing his two companion's attention to him. 

“Something funny about the bijuu breaking out and ruining all our hard work, brat?” Madara says, voice deep and menacing and condescending all in one. 

“I’m not the one who wants a fucking sedative for a bijuu.” Obito fires back. He doesn’t mention that he’s been the one doing the work for decades because that’ll start a fight and It _always_ ends with Madara and Zetsu telling him they spent quite a lot of time refinishing this statue for use and he better be grateful he got the “easy” part. 

Obito sealed the majority of the bijuu, or rather, dumped it on Akatsuki to do. But it’s one thing to seal them, write them off as animals or monsters, but people? Yeah, he’s glad he wasn’t alive for that particular assignment. 

Absolutely creepy, not that he’ll admit it to either the undead zombie or plant(?) to his left. 

Zetsu hums, low and nasally, that in decades of Obito knowing it, has never sounded even remotely human. “The bijuu are creatures made of chakra, given will. That other little Mokuton user is out of commission for us to use and Obito is needed to help you beat back these people.” 

Zetsu turns then, looking over to Madara with a look that might be interest if Zetsu’s face wasn’t half missing where he and white Zetsu split. 

“Did you have another idea, Madara?” 

Obito watches Madara shift slightly, looking down below where the Niidaime stands, and they catch each other eyes. 

He watches a grin sweep across his face, watches it morph to a smile, and how he mouths something to the man below. Obito feels a chill of foreboding down his spine. Feels it in the pit of his stomach and suddenly remembers how Tobirama is known for his Suiton. How water nature heals and soothes. How Medical ninjutsu literally functions by the aid of chakra and everything that can possibly mean. 

He remembers how the history books could never agree on anything when talking about Madara and Tobirama's relationship beyond a meeting room and destroyed desks. 

“I think I might have something.” Madara says softly. 

He takes two steps then and leaps off the statue towards the white-haired man below and Obito can’t help but mutter to himself about _old ass ninja_ and their complete inability to follow plans and now he’s going to have to deal with everyone being nosy while Madara thoroughly ignores them. 

Zetsu’s accompanied laughter in his ear is as annoying as it’s ever been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO, I’m not posting this from a computer and I didn’t use word to check it so if there’s any mistakes, please kindly let me know :) 
> 
> The total fic ended up being 4 chapters, 4 perspectives (one for each chapter), and somewhere around 5.4K words assuming I don’t find any glaring errors lol
> 
> I think I’ve tried to sit down and write this like 5 times since May so I hope you enjoy!! Happy endings not guaranteed!! :)


	2. We’re not caught up in your love affair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiruzen

As Madara hits the ground, Hiruzen takes no time at all in grabbing Kakashi and Sakura and pulling them back some. Minato, ever observant, grabs Naruto and— Kami, Naruto knowing his parents is all Hiruzen’s ever wanted but _Sages balls_, he didn’t want it to be like this— jumps back several yards to put some distance between them and Uchiha Madara. 

Hiruzen lets his arm that’s stretched out in front of Kakashi remain a second longer than it should before letting it fall back to his side. 

Tobirama did not follow when they all jumped back. 

In almost a neat half circle they watch Madara raise a hand to Tobirama’s face and say something. He can’t hear the exchange at all but Tobirama sensei is. not. moving. 

Hiruzen cannot feel the thump of his heart, or the sweat of his palms, reanimated as he his, but his brain process the emotion nonetheless. 

Foreboding is a shinobi’s friend, more often than not. 

“Sandaime-sama?” A small voice from his left whispers. 

Hiruzen spares a glance to Minato where he’s got a hand on Naruto’s shoulder, and an eye on the second Hokage. 

“I’m not sure Minato.” Hiruzen answers truthfully.

He saw his old sensei take a step forward. Saw his arms drop to his sides. Saw the way his gaze locked on to the statue as if seeing something horrifying, which, okay, the statue is, but he saw the way Tobirama analyzed it initially. Watched as his sensei sneered and called it disgusting but the interest in his eyes said fascinating. 

Minato makes an acknowledging grunt but instead of going silent again like Hiruzen assumed he would he asks, 

“Shodaime-sama did not get revived, did he?”

Hiruzen spares a glance towards Minato’s face, but he finds his students student to be solely focusing on the two superpowers in the center. 

“The Shodaime’s body was never recovered.” He answers easily. At least, Hiruzen has never seen a record for it, and he was never rude enough to ask Tobirama-sensei for details on his brother’s death. Even Orochimaru, when he came to kill Hiruzen during the Chūnin exams expressed his displeasure at only having two Hokage at his disposal to revive. 

Of course, this meant he also brought along Uzumaki Mito’s corpse but well, Hiruzen didn’t fancy he had much of a chance to begin with anyways. 

“I could have sworn it though.” Minato whispers softly. 

“Sworn what?” Naruto asks, a little loud for everyone’s tastes but genuine as always. 

Minato smiles a little before whispering, “I could of sworn he has called for “anija” a second ago.” 

“That’s not right though” Sakura whispers from the other side of Kakashi, “Shodaime-sama couldn’t have been revived without his body. Right?” 

Hiruzen doesn’t actually know if Edo Tensei could use a family member to revive someone else so he settles on nodding distractedly in Sakura’s direction before looking past Tobirama and Madara for a second. Minato has ears like a bat— usually being what got him in trouble with Kushina— but Hiruzen doesn’t see a rouge Hashirama above anywhere that would indicate why Tobirama might have said that. 

He desperately wants to grab his sensei away from Madara as well, but. 

He doesn’t exactly have delusions of being able to beat Uchiha Madara one on one, no matter how this situation gives him flash backs to Kumo, all those years ago. 

The body they found for their sensei remains the most demoralizing of them all. Minato and Kushina’s, decades later, became close seconds. 

The statue catches his attention again though. Something about the way the bijuu inside it move is off putting to most shinobi with any sensing capability at all, but there almost seems like something else too. Something more. 

Hiruzen waits for the pin to drop but all he gets is the wind shifting and the sudden ability to hear Uchiha Madaras mostly one sided conversation. 

“— already, why don’t we go see him, Tobirama.” 

The voice Madara uses is soft and a Hyūga from the side quickly waves the sign for _genjutsu_ and _caught_ and Hiruzen comes to find that if they don’t do something this fight is about to get magnitudes times harder should Tobirama be tricked into switching sides. 

“How.” Is his sensei’s only response, so quiet that Hiruzen nearly misses it still. 

Kakashi stiffens at his side but thousands of shinobi against what seems like this one man and all they can do is watch as Uchiha Madara lets his toothy smile fade to something soft and genuine that Saru for one breathlessly long moment has a hard time believing that the history books said they hated each other with such a burning passion people believed they would single handily restart the clan wars but only with each other. 

For whatever reason, Hiruzen has a suspicion that it was probably a lot more complicated than that. 

“Let me show you.” Madara says, breaking the breath everyone has been holding. All at once there’s shifting of metal, and Naruto is yelling for Tobirama to _wake up, dammit!_ While Minato desperately holds his son back from charging in there. 

Hiruzen has a split second to realize they’ve got one solid try to separate Madara from Tobirama before Obito or the statue or one of the thousands of Zetsu’s stand in the way. 

He catches a couple eyes, but Kakashi is the one to call a shot before him and a couple other shinobi who Hiruzen might recognize from a bingo book are darting toward the duo. Before they can make it, the Gedo Mazou shifts and Zetsu are rising from the ground to grab unsuspecting ankles.

Hiruzen’s attention though has shifted back to the statue. Not to say he doesn’t watch Madara laugh and swing Tobirama up into his arms like a lost princess, even despite the other man's height advantage but— the statue. 

The way it’s shifted, the shackles clanking, the torso nearly relaxing. Despite it being larger than life, it holds itself shallowly. 

And Hiruzen is absolutely horrified to realize he recognizes that posture. 

He watches Madara make two leaps to the top again, Tobirama firmly in his arms, while Obito makes some comment or another about Naruto’s lack of intelligence. 

“Oh.” Hiruzen says none to softly. 

“Saindaime-sama?” Minato asks a second time. He’s holding on to a hiraishin kunai hard, but his grip on Naruto’s shoulder is harder. 

Again, with as much sincerity as he can muster, responds, “The Gedo Mazou _is_ Hashirama-sama.”

The shinobi next to him flinch, whispers start up, and Kakashi and Minato are eyeing him like he’s lost his damn mind. Sakura, at the very least, is looking at the statue carefully, smart girl. 

In hindsight, Hiruzen thinks amusedly, listening to everyone try and piece it together, there was probably a more sensitive way to approach the topic, and corresponding realization, than that. 

But hey, Hiruzens dead and old, He only gets to shock people for a little while longer as it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments were all so sweet on chapter 1 that I got this up faster than I thought I would (T ^ T)
> 
> Additionally who would of thought Hiruzens perspective would be fun to write? The more you know,,,


	3. Hypnotized by drums, until forever comes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hashirama

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To absolutely no ones surprise, the chapter is now longer than it originally was. I would say that the ball has finally started to roll, but in this case, it has obtained a mind of its own, and rolled off the nearest cliff. enjoy.

Hashirama watches the scene below with steady eyes. Watches the worlds shinobi unite and fight together, and can’t help but think in his own Madara way, his old friend achieved their dream more than Hashirama ever did.

Not, that Hashirama approves of being sealed inside a corpse, but in his defense, he was very out of it at the time.

He’s not sure how long it took to separate his mind from the statue’s own conscious. Not to say it has one, particularly, but it has a hand almost. Anything that enters it, it latches on to with a fever, stripping it of any anatomy and dissecting it for any information. It takes the nine bijuu and uses their sensations, minds, and powers and becomes its own little monster.

A parasite, in the most basic terms.

He also knows that he is the only thing standing between the statue mushing the current bijuu trapped with him into one mess of chakra.

Madara wasn’t wrong necessarily when he sealed Hashirama into the statue. He has, in ways, made it stronger than it ever would have been, but—

He’s not helpless either. Had Madara or Zetsu been smart, they should have departed his soul, instead of assuming he would stay unconscious and weak.

More offensively, neither have noticed.

The other Uchiha boy, Obito, has come close, with Hashirama calling out to boy’s prosthetic arm, but even he didn’t want to look too closely. With his... training, with Madara, he was too busy in the beginning and later, Hashirama knows this truly hideous statue makes the poor boy nervous.

Kokōu, the first Bijuu to join him in his imprisonment is an ever-quiet friend to his metaphorical side. With his help, is when Hashirama found a way for him to feel like he has a body again and more easily peer to the outside world, with one eye of the statue being open.

It also gave him a chance to apologize. Hashirama was the one to originally seal the rest of the bijuu, with the exception of the nine tails.

Kokōu, however, surprised him. Said he never minded Han, although the previous host had been a little mean.

The bijuu had looked at Hashirama, and said what he did might be unforgivable to some of his siblings, but Kokōu knows Hashirama’s human, and the sage would call for forgiveness.

Hashirama had smiled then, bright and gold, and in true god of shinobi fashion, cried all over the bijuu.

Metaphorically of course, they’re ghosts trapped in a wooden tinker doll.

Breaking him out of his thoughts, Matatabi comes and lays down by him to peer out at the carnage below.

Another strong and silent presence, Hashirama has enjoyed.

“That is... your kin. Is it not, Hashirama?”

Hashirama follows her gaze and finds his little brother below, standing toe to toe with Madara.

Surprisingly, there are no fists being thrown.

“It… is.” Hashirama starts cautiously. In the beginning, Madara used to sit by the statue’s feet and talk to it as if Hashirama could hear him.

Well, he could, but Madara didn’t know that.

He would talk about anything and everything, up to and including Tobirama’s death. Hashirama is grateful he’d been not quite able to feel himself then, still torn and unfeeling by the statues hand. Had he been more stable, he’s sure he would have made even the cold hard husk of the ten-tails cry like a newborn baby.

Matatabi purrs lightly in comfort, “This is the one you say I’d get along with?”

“Ah” Hashirama starts laughing a little, “Without a doubt!”

He lets his temporary happiness echo a bit in his shared mind space he’s carved out for himself and the bijuu. He feels answering echoes of exasperation, determination, and of course, amusement to his antics as usual.

Matatabi purrs a little louder, a little surer, and Hashirama smiles at her, slouching in on himself in the face of her affections, before refocusing his attention outward again.

The amusement fades though, unfortunately, as he and 7 other bijuu watch Madara pull Tobirama into his arms and carry his brother to the top of statue.

The other shinobi below are yelling, well, the little blond hurricane is as at least, and he can’t quite see what Madara’s doing anymore but he gets his answer soon enough.

Hashirama really wished he hadn’t.

The cool, smooth brush of dark blue chakra is as familiar as the sun when it comes and Hashirama seems to involuntarily relax against it, his own special verdant green chakra gaining a beautiful shimmering blue that nearly covers the little mindscape he’s carved out. Briefly, Hashirama lets himself recognize the colors to be similar to the sparkling teals and jasmines that surround the shallows of Uzushio.

Hashirama’s not the only one affected though; Shukaku, a tanuki formed of sand and wind and spite lets his fierce golden furs be calmed to a mild windstorm, no longer pounding the walls like an angry tax collector.

Son Gokū’s (and sage help whoever forgets his name) chakra takes a dive in temperature, not to say the monkey king doesn’t still have tenacity of an active volcano and enough smoke coming out the top to challenge one, but the hard skin he convers himself in becomes more like when the lava hits the ocean’s surface. Molten hot rock quickly becoming obsidian, no longer melting the sides of their hell-scape but unintentionally cementing its sides.

Saiken, ever cheerful and mindful of his siblings, finds its chakra becoming more basic. Previously content to bubble and blister, melting seams like bones, now on a road to become a more diluted version of what it should be; the unfortunate side effect of adding to much water to any good solution is neutralization. 

Chōmei, finds herself a similar fate; previously content to hold her remaining power in reserve, as blinding powder and chakra repellent techniques do no good trapped next to your comrades, finds that her wings beat slower to a calmer heartbeat. One that does not belong to a kabutomushi.

Isobu, who prefers water when he’s not sealed, finds he’s the least affected to the cooling rush of valerian like chakra, but takes comfort in the familiar feeling of rushing water regardless. 

Even Matatabi, a sure opposite to Tobirama lets her flames be doused as a familiar blue and white shape forms in the mind scape, coming to in wisps of color until Hashirama’s little brother is lying down not even two yards away.

In a second, Hashirama is up from his crisscross position and at his little brother's side, as Tobirama slowly blinks open his eyes.

Hashirama watches as awareness fills them and he gently brushes white hair out of a face he has missed dearly.

“Anija” Tobirama breathes out roughly. And then he’s sitting up, and dragging Hashirama into a hug.

Or Hashirama’s dragging him into a hug.

Either way, their hugging and Hashirama is absolutely not crying. Nobody is, for that matter, and any tailed beast that says otherwise is lying.

When the brothers separate, Matatabi deigns herself to stretch in their direction, nearly immediately catching Tobirama’s attention.

Ruby red eyes light up in wonder as a cat filled out in blue and purple flames lazily walks her way to the Senju brother’s sides.

Hashirama lets a soft smile grace his face; he knows exactly what Tobirama would say had the cat— literally in this case— not got his tongue.

He chuckles softly as Tobirama politely introduces himself and Matatabi’s glowing bicolored eyes trace the contours of Tobirama’s white and red coloring.

Hashirama lets them introduce themselves, lets this one moment of peace and quiet rule before Tobirama gets his head on straight— a lingering side effect of genjutsu is the inability to focus— and ultimately pieces together just what happened and where he must be. His brother is a genius like that so Hashirama has no doubt he’ll have to explain that no, it was not Tobirama’s fault this happened, and no, Hashirama has not found a way out yet because, yes, they are technically dead. Ish.

He lets his focus slip again, slide into seven ghoulish eyes and look to the destruction and death and bodies below. It’s not the clan wars, and it’s not like the first shinobi war. Those had stealth and planning and finesse and this is just a free for all.

The land won’t ever recover, Hashirama laments silently. Neither will this generation of shinobi and Kami forbid any civilians too close to this fight. It will bring a new era of peace should the shinobi alliance win against Madara.

But then again, it will bring a new era of fear as well.

Shinobi are, and always have been, the minority for all their power.

Hashirama is not sure which will be worse, in the end.

“Brother?” A voice whispers from his side.

Hashirama lets his mind come back to him. Let’s the ten tails resume control of its own eyes and gives his last little brother a soft smile.

Tobirama returns it, for all its not in his nature, and looks in the general direction Hashirama was.

It wouldn’t surprise him, if Tobirama figured out what it took him years to master in a matter of seconds, but instead Tobirama drags his eyes back to Hashirama.

“I’m sorry, brother”. He says softly.

Hashirama can only smile because well— he expected this.

“It’s not your fault, Otouto.”

Tobirama makes a face, “Maybe not, but still, had I come with you...”

Hashirama laughs,” Then we would have been both stuck in here sooner! Would you have denied me my last chance to go exploring? To stick my nose where it doesn’t belong? Then where would your little students be, Tobirama?”

Hashirama watches his little brother pull another face, as those are most definitely in his nature, before eyeing out in the general direction of the shinobi below.

Specifically, where Hiruzen is below.

Hashirama grins, so maybe some of them were led astray anyways, but you can’t do much when your dead, Hashirama’s come to find.

“We could have at least countered Madara together. He’s the one who did this, right?” Tobirama responds with instead. Although the disappointment with how Hiruzen may have handled a certain incident, is clear on his face. Hashirama is nearly itching to tell him about the Hyuuga and Kuubi disasters, not to mention what Danzō was up to as well and his involvement with Madara/Obito. 

“He is.” Hashirama answers easily. Because Fuck Madara for sealing him, “but it was also that plant thing—Zetsu. Who actually has a lot more to do with, uh, everything than you may think.”

Tobirama watches him blankly for a second before snorting and dragging their heads together.

This close Hashirama can see Tobirama’s light freckles scattered across his nose and how his brother minutely relaxes and Hashirama can’t help but smile as they rest their foreheads against one another. 

“I missed you, anija.” Tobirama whispers softly

“Not as much as I missed you, I’m sure.” Hashirama whispers back.

The feeling of floating returns and while there’s not a breeze in this mind-scape the emotion that can only be described as sitting in a breezy field, unconcerned, on a sunny day, is as strong as the bijuu’s presence at Hashirama’s back, grounding and familial.

In the moment of tranquility, years of stress let out in a rush and Hashirama’s finally able to ignore the outside world for one moment of ignorant bliss. That is, of course, when Tobirama opens his mouth.

“Hashirama?”

“Hmm?”

“You have a way out, right?”

Hashirama does not let himself tense but he can feel his little brother’s eyes drilling into his should he choose to open his own and face the music.

“Tobirama, were dead.”

Tobirama sighs, “So is Madara, but that’s not stopping him.”

Hashirama has not forgotten his little brothers and best friend’s rivalry (it was so much more but Hashirama refuses to acknowledge that particular relationship right now), but he didn’t think Tobirama would jump to it immediately with 7 bijuu he could talk to at his disposal.

“Well, he's reanimated, Tobira.”

“And? I was too like three seconds ago.”

It’s Hashirama’s turn to sigh, finally opening his eyes, pulling back a little and trying to figure out a way to communicate the fact that they are stuck here until further notice as delicately as possible.

He doesn’t want to remind his selfless little brother that he’s been trapped here for decades but Tobirama is convinced that Madara isn’t going to win when he so easily convinced Tobirama to go along with him even if it was just for a second.

Hashirama doesn’t want to admit defeat, but...

“Tobirama, from inside this statue, I can keep the bijuu as separate beings. I can keep you and me, as separate beings. Like that, the ten tails can’t _truly_ come back to life like Madara and Zetsu assume, but I’ve tried for decades to figure a way out. Unless the statue is destroyed— something only possible from the outside— then we’re stuck here.”

The echoing silence throughout the shared mind-scape is ringing in its deafness, but Hashirama carefully keeps his composure as he watches Tobirama dissect the information dumped on him.

“This…plan. The ten-tails can’t assume power?”

“It can, but it won’t be as nearly powerful with its conscious split 9, well 11 if they get the other two, ways.”

“The bijuu have a shared mind-scape right?”

Matatabi, unrepentant about her eavesdropping hums in approval. Although the sound is more akin to a purr and as loud as the beating drums that used to announce an army’s arrival.

Tobirama, ever use to feline ways, turns to her with clear expectations written all over his face.

“So, you can communicate with Kurama and Gyūki? And therefore their hosts?”

Bi colored eyes flick over Tobirama’s being

“Yes.”

“So, if there’s any weakness in this stupid degrading statue, then we theoretically can collectively push against it and all they have to do on the outside is hit this stupid thing once and the pressure provided should crack it open.”

“Theoretically, kitten.” Matatabi says slowly, “but if you remember, they took care of the degrading problem by using your brother’s life force. A weakness will not be so easy to find.”

Tobirama pouts— not that Hashirama would call it a pout to his face— before turning to look out in the direction of the battle field.

Hashirama gently picks up his hand to help guide his chakra into being able to see properly outside.

Hashirama has held hope for decades that this battle will fail spectacularly, that the world would not lose the bijuu so easily, that someone, somewhere, would stop Madara or his little successor in time.

The destruction he sees every time he looks out is not encouraging to stay true to that faith.

The bijuu practically sedated at his back is not encouraging to hold onto his hope.

His little brother, who he’s missed for years, joining him in this special kind of hell, when Hashirama knows his soul already spent some time in the Shinigami’s stomach, shatters his will into tiny pieces of leaf litter, helpless against the raging wildfire around them.

It’s not a win for humanity, in any way.

Hashirama’s thoughts are only cemented when Obito brings the ten tails to life prematurely, but successfully.

The little amount of hope extinguished like an old candle set out in wind storm when Obito’s plan fails, but Madara seals the remaining bijuu and reanimates the ten tails again, and turns Zetsu into a roasted Venus fly trap when he tried to do something behind his back.

Something about a goddess? Or a mother? A moon? Hashirama missed the conversation, listening to Tobirama’s and Kurama’s unholy alliance in producing truly creative curses against Madara’s person.

Infinitely more entertaining in his opinion.

And then there’s the sage, descending towards the battlefield like benevolent god and he can feel the bijuu collectively still at his presence. Can feel the way every shinobi who is desperately trying to clear away the encroaching plant life that will feed the god tree with their lives, freeze at his presence.

Powerful, in a horribly predictive sort of way.

Because the sage stops to talk. Starts to monologue instead of snapping Madara out of existence like a fly he must be to Sage of Six fucking Paths.

He feels more than sees Tobirama drop his head into his hands, and instead watches Madara cast the genjutsu, with zero fucks to give for some old man who thinks talking will get anywhere with Madara.

How could he have honestly been watching this whole time and thought that?

“What an idiot”, Hashirama mumbles.

“Where is the Shinigami when you need him” Tobirama practically shouts in frustration.

Their complaints go unheard by the shinobi of the elemental nations as roots grapple people into submission and the god tree shivers to life. The sage is angry, or disappointed, but even he must disappear briefly to whatever land he came from in avoidance of the holiest of unholy roots.

The bijuu collectively sigh and only offer a minuscule amount of condolence at the new status quo.

“Humans” they mutter to each other.

“Uchiha” Tobirama angrily mutters back, “and useless Gods”

“Ugh” Hashirama groans, “Sage damn it Madara.”

Madara’s echoing laughter over a silenced battlefield is all the response they get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m on my back again  
Dreaming of a time and place  
Where you and I remain the best of friends  
Even after all this ends  
Can we pretend?


	4. Pearly gates look more like a picket fence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hamura

“Why is it always Indra’s reincarnation.” Hagomoro laments.

Hamura carefully does not react to his elder sibling’s complaints as he waits for the tree to suck away the life of the people it captured.

Hamura has a vastly different opinion on his nephew’s imprints dragging through time and time again. A difference of opinion with Hagomoro, however, might as well be the end of the world where he’s concerned.

“If you do not go and do something you’re going to make my job a lot harder.” Hamura says lightly.

“What could I possibly do?” Hagomoro fires back, “our mother has stayed sealed, her will is gone, and yet the god tree requires blood for blood.”

Hamura snorts, “You’re the Sage of Six Paths, Brother, and a human is stopping you? We’ve fought the tree before and _won._ Why is it so different now when you have so much more trained power at your disposal? ”

“A human who has the ten-tails sealed to his soul and three eyes to match it. I’m not powered up, so much as powered down, Hamura. And technically, we are spirits.” Hagomoro dutifully responds, “He’s everything Indra always wanted to be.”

Hamura remembers glancing down to the carnage and seeing Indra, no, Madara whisk Tobirama, a familiar face until recently, up to the statue. Remembers hearing whispered secrets,_ it’ll be fine Tobirama, I’m fixing everything. Your fixing everything, just wait, I’ll free everyone and then I’ll free you too,_ and thinks that Hagomoro hasn’t quite noticed Madara has very different motivations than Indra.

Indra who wanted the shinobi ways abolished, and sought it through power over others. Madara who wants peace out of mostly selfishness and couldn’t give two shits in what way he accomplished it.

An attentive father the blessed sage is not, but Hamura is the Shinigami and he knows those who walk the lands. Knows that if they stand idle he will only have to guide souls to the Pure lands one more time.

“Hagomoro” Hamura starts, letting the seriousness in his tone catch his elder brother’s eyes where his own will not, “if you do not do something, earth will be clear of life.”

“Then we will move on. We have others who left earth millennials ago. Kaguya remains sealed, that is all that matters in the face of mortal’s foolishness.”

Hamura sighs at Hagomoro’s recklessness. Always waiting till last minute for judgment. Always acting for a future Hamura could never see fully. He’s angry in the face of nearly being swallowed by the god tree— angry for misjudging Madara.

“Really” Hamura deadpans, “You forget your humanity, brother.”

Hagomoro at least has the decency to look slightly abashed, for that was out of character enough for even him to immediately click his mouth shut. Their mothers “friends and family” who left have never came back, and they would be foolish to look for them.

“No, forgive me, Hamura” the wizened Sage says, “but they will not be dead in that tree immediately, we have time to regroup and save people starting furthest from the source, moving inwards. By then, maybe Madara himself will have let the tree take him too for this better world he wants so bad.”

Hamura hums, “And all the shinobi trapped now? Those who won’t last till we save them?”

“Should they persist long enough we may be able to save them yet.”

Hamura watches Hagoromo carefully. His older brother was benevolent and loved among the people when he lived on earth. But it’s been years, _ centuries, _ and while he spends his time greeting souls to the pure lands, he still seems to miss the importance of human nature.

People after death, their grateful. Or mad. But normally not selfish, or conceited or stupid, but that is everything Man has always been. It’s easy to forget in the face of everything that it’s grief that usually puts them there. Hagoromo is mad about the current situation, Hamura knows this, so the turnaround in attitude can only mean…

“You hope this will regain the origins of Ninshū without as many using ninjutsu to get in the way.” Hamura says flatly, trying not to let the anger slip into his voice. 

“I hope” Hagoromo snaps, “that those who use my gift wisely prevail and we help those who do not have it so strongly first.”

“Ah, of course, elder brother” Hamura replies. He doesn’t fool him, but what is the lowly Shinigami to the Sage of Six Paths in the end?

“I suppose we’re just letting the souls of the Senju brothers and the bijuu sit and rot inside the ten tails then?”

“The ten tails will not move with her conscious split as it is. Without Madara to guide her, she will become dormant and then we may free those trapped inside. The bijuu will return to their temples and lands and the souls to the pure world where they are long overdue.”

Hamura reluctantly nods his head, but in truth, is not sure how he feels about that. He was human once, and the thought of not moving onto the pure lands....

Well, dissatisfactory is a very clinical way to put it, but no less true, in the end.

Hamura died, and chose to become the Shinigami and live his life on the moon. It was a choice. Tobirama and Hashirama didn’t get that, and the fact that they, and the other bijuu that looked upon Hagomoro like a father will be trapped inside the statue, unable to get closure, until they can work their way to them, is deeply unsettling. His brother has always been the wisest, and for all that it’s true, he fails to take in account something like the passage of human years, and the way he’s probably more intimidating now than he was when he was a teenager.

Alas, Hamura doesn’t voice such words, they have a world to save after all. Even if it’s not in order, and even though they are, yet again, not taking the direct approach, the people will be saved.

Most of them. The rest, Hamura will guide from this land and hope they believe the Tsuki-no-Me to be as real as their minds will make it.

They will not be truly saved, but a valuable sacrifice for the sage, is considered honorable anyways.

After all, the ends always justify the means, in the eyes of someone in power.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> END NOTES WOOHOOO
> 
> 1\. I did not intend to make the sage seem like such a douche, he's just frustrated, and can go suck on a lemon
> 
> 1.5 I wrote a chapter 5 but I’m not sure I like it all so I’m just gonna leave this complete and either add another chapter later or make it its own oneshot if I end up beating it to submission 
> 
> 2\. BEFORE YOU COME AT ME WITH YOUR PITCHFORKS, IM INTENDING to publish a drabble based fic (so each chapter would be different) for the sole purpose of me wanting to write out tobirama and kurama coming up with creative curses for madara HOWEVER if there is something you'd like to see expanded on (i.e. hashirama's years trapped, some good ole madatobi while they were both in konoha, mito being mito) for this verse tell me!! & ill put it down to write. 
> 
> no really, don't be afraid to ask for something because I KNOW i left some things unclear/unfinished and while I enjoyed writing this to be open ended, i imagine it might have been frustrating to read lol. 
> 
> Anyways y'all have been super sweet to this fic/series considering It really just started as a little gift to the queen that is goddcoward. 
> 
> so I guess I'm just trying to say thank you! you're comments and kudos are very appreciated :)


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